Dreams and Promises
by MaryEvH
Summary: She was the only thing he ever truly wanted. Of all his years on earth, Dean Winchester had never loved anyone like Joanna Beth Harvelle. AU after 5x10, "Abandon All Hope". One-shot, rated T to be safe. Cover art credit to the wonderful Freedom909. R&R!


**A/N: Hello again, lovely readers!**

 **Here's something just a little different, since I've never written for Supernatural before. I was always a fan of the chemistry between Dean and Jo, so I decided to take a stab at an AU. Many thanks to TheRealOrsonKrennic for being an awesome beta reader during this process, and Freedom909 for the gorgeous cover photo! You know the drill - read, review, and most of all, enjoy!**

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 _The bombs were almost finished. Jo sat against the wall, still holding her stomach wound, her eyes vacant as she stared away from him. Dean started to wonder if she was even still alive as he wound the last wires through the nail-filled gas canisters, finally bringing her the detonator. "This is it," he said as he squatted down, desperately trying to keep his voice from breaking. It mostly worked. They all knew it was too soon to be saying goodbye. "I'll see you on the other side...probably sooner than later."_

 _Jo managed to muster a smile. "Make it later?"_

 _Dean could hardly look at her as he finally handed her the detonator. Her hand was ice cold as it met his, but he felt her fingers slowly close around the skinny cylinder. God, she was so young. Too young to die like this. On impulse, he gently placed his lips on her forehead, his fingers holding her neck. She was clammy with sweat when he gently kissed her lips, but he felt her softly kiss him back._

There. For a moment, I had everything. _No, he couldn't stay any longer. He couldn't watch Jo die; that was too much to ask._

 _Ellen knelt down in his place as he got up to join Sam, wordlessly communicating with her daughter. Finally, Jo spoke again, her voice heavy with her tears._

" _Mom, no."_

" _Somebody's gotta let 'em in," Ellen answered. "Like you said, you're not movin'. You got me, Jo. And you're right," she continued as her daughter cried more, "this is important. But I will not leave you here alone."_

 _Sam finally spoke; he had forgotten his brother was still in the room. "Dean…"_

" _Get goin' now, boys," Ellen said firmly._

" _Ellen…" Dean tried to challenge._

" _I said go."_

 _Both Winchesters knew it would be fruitless to argue with her any further. Defeated, they started towards the door. "And Dean?" Ellen called again. He paused and turned. She had one simple command to him. "Kick it in the ass. Don't miss."_

 _Unable to respond, they finally left. Jo's tears continued to fall as her mother took the chains off the door, broke the salt line, opened the gas nozzles on the bombs. Finally, she returned to her daughter's side. Ellen could tell Jo was in her last moments as she put her arm around her little girl's shoulders._

" _I will always love you," she said. In the distance, the hounds were barking again. Jo slumped. "Honey? Jo?"_

 _There was no response. Ellen knew her daughter was dead. "It's okay," she wept, "it's okay." She kissed Jo's forehead. "That's my good girl."_

 _Suddenly, the hounds burst through the open door. Ellen grasped her dead daughter's cold hand, her finger on the detonator as the hound's hot breath hit her face. She clenched her teeth with her final resolve. "You can go straight back to hell, you ugly bitch!"_

 _She pressed the button. The glass front of the store shattered onto the sidewalk as huge flames billowed -_

Dean shot upright in his bed as the nightmare ended; something between a gasp and a strangled yell caught in his throat as he grabbed at empty air. Sweat ran copiously down his bare chest. It was a slow return to reality. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of his wife's voice next to him.

"Dean, Dean!" she repeated, grabbing his shoulder a little tighter and shaking it.

He finally turned to face her, and there she was. Whole. Alive. "Jo, thank God," he whispered, clutching her close.

"What the hell were you dreaming, babe?" she murmured into his shoulder, her voice still heavy with tiredness. "You're gonna wake the twins."

He shook his head adamantly as he swallowed hard, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm not about to make you anxious with my problems; we've got more important things to think about."

"If it's this baby you're worried about, it's not coming for a while," she said. "I can handle it. And besides…" she rubbed his shoulder, "I'm your wife. If anyone besides Sam should know what's going on in that crazy head of yours, it's me."

Dean sighed. She was just like her mother that way - there was no point in arguing with her. "It was hellhounds," he finally said. Jo pulled back to look up at him, clearly nervous, but wanting to hear what he had to say. "The apocalypse had happened. We were in Carthage on a lead. All of us - you, me, Sam, Bobby, Cas, and Ellen. They were coming for me, but...you pushed me away and...got mauled."

A bit to his surprise, Jo laughed. "Well then you know it was a dream; no way I'd go down from something as banal as a _hellhound_ ," she said, grinning. But Dean's face didn't change, and her smile quickly fell. "How bad was it?"

He pursed his lips, clearly gathering himself to speak. "Bad. Almost enough to kill you, but not quite." He swallowed hard. "We holed up in a little general store...I had to carry you. You were in so much pain, baby…I couldn't stand it." Another pause, and a hard swallow before he could continue. "We tried to come up with a solution…but you knew the hounds already had your scent. You knew they wouldn't stop until they got you. So we built you a bomb…and I put the detonator in your hand." Dean let the tears stream down his face freely now. "But your mother wouldn't leave you alone. So she made Sammy and I leave…and when the hounds broke through the door…"

He couldn't finish for sobbing. Jo was clearly horrified, but held her husband as best she could. "Dean, honey, it's alright…shh, I'm here; I'm alright, it's all fine…we're alive; we're all alive," she kept murmuring as she rubbed his back gently. "No hellhounds in sight."

Dean managed to dry his eyes as he lifted his head again. "I just couldn't think about losing you that way," he said.

"You never will," she said firmly. "I promise. We've got protections on this house that give Bobby's panic room a run for its money. And the boys are learning fast. They've already learned all their knives, and we can start them on their rifles by next year."

He held his wife's face in his hands. "Jo, honey…you, our boys, and this new baby are my whole world. I have to keep all of you safe."

"You do that every day, Dean," she murmured gently, kissing his forehead as he placed his head on her chest. "Little Sammy, little Bobby, and I all know that…and I know she will too, when she gets here," Jo patted her stomach.

Dean's head shot up. "Wait...it's a girl?"

Jo only grinned. "Surprise."

For the first time that night, a real smile crossed Dean's tired face, and he hugged his wife tightly. "I'm gonna check on the boys; I'll be right back," he kissed her forehead. "Go ahead and go back to sleep, babe."

She nodded, falling asleep before her head hit the pillow. Dean chuckled to himself as he quietly crossed the hall, carefully opening the door to their sons' room. The six-year-olds were sound asleep, their blankets pulled up on their separate beds. He smiled to himself as he thought back on their short lives so far, and his own experience of learning to be a parent on the go. Nothing would ever beat changing two sets of dirty diapers in the middle of a hunt for a Changeling, he recalled. _That was a dicey one._

As carefully as he could, he stepped over to little Bobby's bed, brushing the hair back from his forehead to gently kiss it. He crossed the room to do the same for Sammy - the older one by just five minutes. Dean had never thought of himself as the type to settle down, especially with the life he grew up in. He never really learned from his father what a good parent was supposed to be like. No, he never could have seen this life for himself, but being a husband and a father was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He loved his wife, his sons, and his unborn daughter more than anything.

Dean closed the door as quietly as he'd opened it, crossing the hall and getting back into his bed, careful not to wake Jo as he got under the sheet. His hands moved to gently rub her back, the same way he had when she was pregnant with the twins. _My little family will be alright,_ he decided, kissing Jo's head. "I love you."

He heard a smile in her voice as she answered, "I love you, too."


End file.
